


The Spark

by killerwhales



Series: song writing [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Language, M/M, Taeil - Freeform, i am terrible at endings, its not angst, one sexual joke, ten - Freeform, the yuwin scorpio dynamic just lends itself to angst, this was supposed to be angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 21:35:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14702802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerwhales/pseuds/killerwhales
Summary: In which Yuta never looks where he's going, and is fond of late night runs.Alternatively, Ten is going to go gray if Yuta doesn't stop bringing in people to patch up.





	The Spark

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is brought to you by the product of a late night and the song The Spark by Afrojack and Spree Wilson.

Yuta was running again.

 

It was a muggy, late August night and there he was, running in the middle of Central Park. Dangerous? Yes. Did he care? No. He’d already been running that day as a part of his regular workout routine but sometimes the feeling under his skin got to be too much and he had to run. It was the only way he’d figured out to contain it without hurting himself. He’d grabbed his phone and earbuds as he had run out the door, he wasn’t stupid, no one ever went anywhere without their phone in New York, and the last strains of _To The Stars_ by _Braken_ were filtering out into the buzz of inner city New York, and the electrical surge he had been feeling under his skin was subsiding, when he ran into him.

 

Literally ran into him, full speed. One moment he was there, the next he felt himself running into what felt like a pile of sticks. Both of them went down hard, and Yuta cried out as his phone bounced out of his pocket and landed on the concrete.

 

“DUDE WHAT THE HELL” were the first words out his mouth after a string of curses that would make a taxi cab driver blush.

 

“LISTEN ASSHOLE I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING BUT LIKE, I DON’T KNOW MAYBE START LOOKING FOR PEOPLE TO AVOID THEM.” The boy he’d literally run over fired back with equal animosity, rolling his eyes dramatically.

 

“THE SAME GOES FOR YOU, WHY THE HELL ARE YOU OUT HERE ANYWAY??” Yuta shot back, not ready to back down just yet. Who did this boy think he was? Fucking shoobies always in the way.

 

The boy in question threw him a look of loathing as he sat on the ground nursing his knee and suddenly Yuta didn’t have the breath or energy to argue with him. He collected his phone, jumped to his feet and offered his hand to the pale boy still on the ground.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there I guess.” He said, flashing his million watt smile that he’d been told could melt steel and break the hearts of old grandmas. It was wasted on the boy though, he’d refused to take his proffered hand, instead choosing to sit on the ground and cradle said bleeding knee in his hands

 

“Look asshole, I could sue for personal damages.” the boy growls, glaring up at Yuta through his fringe.

 

“Oh come off it, it was an accident.” Yuta huffed. “Besides, its my word against yours and personally, I’d place my money on myself.”

 

“I’m sure you would.” Came the acidic reply from the boy still on the ground.

 

Yuta rolled his eyes and sighed. “Come on dude, I know a convenience store close by here, I’ll get you some bandages to patch up your boo-boo.”

 

The boy on the ground finally raised his head, and _oh shit he was cute_. Yuta the ever functional gay that he was flashed him a grin that was only a little tamer than his previous grin, and despite himself the boy looked slightly dazed. That could have been the result of his fall, Yuta reasoned, but why look a gift horse in the mouth? He’d just keep thinking it was his smile that had reduced the boy to silence.

 

“Come on!” He said again getting impatient. The boy still hadn’t moved and was staring at Yuta’s hand like he was offering him rat poison. Yuta was a jerk but he wasn’t going to leave this boy here by himself, Yuta was no muscle man but even he could probably accidentally break this kid, and, he reasoned to himself, his conscience, in the form of his friend Moon Taeil would never let him forget it or forgive him if he just left him there.

 

Finally, after another wary look, the boy took his hand and pulled himself to his feet, almost pulling Yuta off balance again.

 

“Sorry.” He muttered, relinquishing Yuta’s hand as soon as both of them were steady on their feet.

 

“Anything for a cutie like you.” Yuta shot back, and immediately regretted his entire existence as the boy literally turned the color of hot sauce and stared firmly at the ground.

 

“Ah, shit, I’m sorry, it’s just a reflex.” He said as a way of apology a look of mild unease on his face.

 

“No, it’s fine, just…. Unexpected. I guess, usually people have more decency than to flirt with people they just mauled.” Was the boys slightly antagonizing reply and by now Yuta was tired of calling him “the boy” in his head so he said the next thing that came to his mind.

 

“So does someone like you have a name or do you just exist to trip attractive strangers in a park?” The boy in question shot him a look that was part incredulousness part exasperation and Yuta had a mild sense of deja vu, even though he was pretty sure he’d never seen this boy before in his life, and he’d not ever run over anyone while on his nightly runs, at least not anytime lately, and at least not that he could remember.

 

He could be wrong though. Perhaps it was because it was the same look that Taeil shot him every time he came to confess a new crush or infatuation.

 

“Sicheng. My name’s Sicheng, but most people call me Winwin because-”

 

"They 'can’t' pronounce your real name.” Yuta finished and Sicheng gave him a small smile.

 

“Winwin is fine, I like it.” He told him after a slightly awkward silence.

 

“Ok, Winwin,” Yuta said, “we’re going to get some bandaids from the dollar store right near here, I’ll send you off after I patch you up and one day you can tell all your grandkids about how you met america’s next top model here running late at night in Central Park, and they won’t believe you but it will have happened.”

 

“Next top model huh? Getting a bit ahead of yourself are you?” Winwin fired back, and Yuta clasped a hand to his chest like he was mortally wounded

 

“I am HURT!” He exclaimed, his voiced getting swallowed by the sounds of a city that never seemed to sleep as they exited Central Park and walked through the maze of traffic that was thick in the city despite the late hour.

 

“I think we’ll have to at least have had five more friendly conversations before you’ve earned the right to make fun of me.” Yuta threw over his shoulder as they threaded their way through the people on the sidewalk.

 

“Pretty sure that I’ve got enough on you just from this one meeting to go off of for a while.” Winwin said with a smile that was bordering on a smirk. Yuta scoffed at him, and despite their unorthodox meeting, rocky start and now their off the cuff hunt for a dollar store to buy bandaids for Winwin’s now slightly crusty bloody knee, Yuta found himself comfortable with the silence that now surrounded their immediate vicinity. They continued down a block before Yuta motioned to the store that was on the corner. They went in and as the bell jangled obnoxiously, the man at the counter hailed them with a hearty “Yuta you blind son of a bitch, you ran over another one did you?”

 

“Hey Ten” Yuta replied mildly the words not registering at first then once they did he drew himself up to his full height and exclaimed.

 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ANOTHER ONE??”

 

“This is what, the third person in two months?” The short man behind the counter responded, unfazed by Yuta’s acidic tone.

 

“It is NOT the third person in two months, tell me, where do you get your drugs. I want some of whatever you have.”

 

“Man, shut the hell up, it’s too late for your version of witty banter.” Ten fake glares at Yuta, hiding a grin.

 

“Well, it’s YOUR fault for choosing to work the late shift.” Yuta calls from a random section of the store.

 

Ten flips invisible hair over his shoulder and shrugs. "A bitch has got to make money son!"

 

“Ah, come off it.”

 

“Uh. Guys?” A slightly worried voice broke their banter and they both turned to look at Winwin who was staring at them with a slightly perturbed expression. “Bleeding boy over here remember?” He snapped his fingers in front of Yuta’s face and Yuta snapped out of his moment of shock, because he’d literally forgotten all about Winwin in the moments he was bantering with Ten.

 

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Yuta motioned to Ten, and said “Ten, meet Sicheng, aka Winwin, Winwin meet my long time best friend and side hoe, Ten, whose name is actually too long and hard to pronounce for the sanity of most people so we just call him Ten.”

 

“It’s because I’m a perfect ten, but they don’t realize it.” Ten added from behind the counter where he’d turned to fiddle with the cash register.

 

“That is a lie, but ok, live in your delusions.”

 

“I will thank you very much.” Ten told him primly and then turned a smile onto Winwin who had sat down on a stack of water bottle cases.

 

“Now take care of this poor soul who you’ve so rudely ignored and run over on this horrible muggy night in August.” He ordered Yuta, who had finally found the bandaid isle. Yuta promptly rolled his eyes and scoffed in Tens direction, kneeling beside Winwin.

 

One patch job, several bandaids and ten minutes of Yuta and Ten roasting each other until Winwin was gasping from laughter, Yuta bids Ten a “goodnight fucker I hope someone robs this store and you get caught in the crossfire,” to which Ten responds with something along the lines of “yeah well at least I’ll get more action in five seconds than you have in five months,” and they leave the store.

 

Walking along the boulevard Yuta realizes that Winwin is still beside him, and even though it’s almost one AM Yuta’s still not tired, though he realizes he should be. He glances over at Winwin who looks back at him with a measured careful gaze and after a beat of silence he asks Yuta if he’s hungry to which Yuta responds with the affirmative and that is how they find themselves at a McDonalds at one AM eating chicken nuggets and talking to each other like they’d known each other their whole lives.

 

One AM will do that to a person, Yuta muses as he walks home much, much later than is safe after seeing Winwin off to the subway station. The barriers between humanity blur after a certain time, he thinks, and it’s easier to see the truth in people when their minds are too tired to come up with the white lies we all use to protect ourselves with unconsciously, day in and day out.

 

He tramps tiredly up the stairs to his hole in the wall apartment with a view that could rival the Riviera and pulling his phone out of his pocket he types as he kicks off his shoes and shrugs off his shirt, “get home safely?” Which is replied to with a thumbs up emoji and he smiles to himself as he collapses into bed and typing “can’t wait to run into you again” which is replied to with a rolling eyes emoji and Yuta chuckles to himself. He may wake up tomorrow and regret his boldness but something deep within himself tells him that maybe, just maybe. He might not.

 

Collapsing into bed he falls asleep with the image of Winwin’s face etched into his mind and a smile on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> this bitch empty! YEET! 
> 
> well this was alternatively gonna be a really angsty yuwin fic because their scorpio dynamic literally hands me drama and angst and tells me to write it down, but it ended up being kinda fluffy so. Here we are. 
> 
> thanks to my beta'er @goat_s (read her fics theyre good)
> 
> also technically shoobies is a new jersey slang term meaning a clueless tourist but since new jersey and new york are like 2 hours apart i just. adapted it


End file.
